Hellfire
by moonlightrose1991
Summary: A marriage of ten years is altered when Erik Destler, The Phantom of the Opera, finds a new muse. Jeanne Cayette, is the loving wife and the only one to ever love Erik for himself. But when a rising author comes to Paris to study the Opera House, Jeanne must choose between a secretive and dying marriage or a blossoming new love that can risk her life. E/C ALW inspired.
1. Chapter 1 - A perfect start

**HEY EVERYONE! This story is based on my Fanfiction on my YOUTUBE channel, Deviltakesdahindmost9, but ALAS I was never able to finish it because I lost all of my content, so I decided to turn it into a written story! **

**Hope you all enjoy! PHANTOM OF THE OPERA DOESN'T BELONG TO ME! I wish it did tho...sigh**

"Would you care to join me in bed, Mrs. Destler?"

Those two words made Jeanne's stomach twist, but in a good way. She felt shivers go down her arms and her eyes twinkled in ecstasy when she heard her new name. Of course she couldn't tell anyone about it so to the outside world she was still known as Miss or Mademoiselle Cayette. That thought didn't cross her mind at that moment that she would be forever secretly married. She loved him. She loved the Phantom of the Opera. She knew what was under his mask, and she loved that as well. Erik was the best thing that ever happened to her in life and now he was all hers.

"Well aren't you bold, Mr. Destler", she responded, mischievously. Erik would be her first. At only the young age of 16 Jeanne was lucky enough to have saved her virginity until she was married. Being orphaned at the age of 10, she had always been out in the streets vulnerable to disgusting men who tried, but she always managed to escape. She found herself under the Opera Garnier at the age of 15 running from yet another one of those ratty men. She was malnourished, went from foster home to foster home but always ran away, she didn't really like to be beaten much, and was very fragile when Erik found her.

He took her in and begged Antoinette Giry to take her under her wing and make her part of the ballet. Meanwhile, Antoinette had her own baby to take care of, but out of the kindness of her heart took Jeanne under her wing as well. Ever since then she was part of the Ballet "circle" as all the chorus girls and ballerinas used to call it, and loved it. She would always leave, however, back to Erik's lair and sleep there. His protection calmed her and she knew she was safe. She never thought as Erik as her father, he was more like an older friend, but that first kiss on her 16th birthday changed everything.

She fell in love with the Phantom of the Opera and agreed to marry him. Now here they are.

"I assure you, you will not be disappointed, my Dove." He beckoned her, only wearing his white- flowy undershirt, and his black trousers. He was wearing his mask, only because Jeanne loved the mystery. "We are married now, it our duty to please one another, is it not?"

Jeanne laughed and bashfully turned away. She was only 16 after all and had no knowledge of pleasing anyone. "Perhaps it is? I have rehearsal tomorrow, early, and I don't wish to be late." She glanced over behind her shoulder to see Erik sneaking up behind her and grabbing her around the waist.

"Come now, I promise to tell Antoinette that you will be a little late, considering this is our Wedding Night." She turned her to face him, her eyes locked on his dark-blue ones. She couldn't resist his stare, took off his mask, and kissed him. He had amazing lips, yes they were deformed on one side, but other than that, he knew what he was doing. He was experienced, even though they were mostly prostitutes, but he was still experienced.

"Oh alright, my husband."

Meanwhile, 60 miles away from Paris a carriage was perusing the great city. The black outside and the burgundy satin seats inside looked like someone of high stature was bound to arrive. Two grey horses dragged the carriage along; it's been travelling a week now from Sweden to France. A man wearing all black with a bowler hat was holding hands with a young girl roughly around 6 years of age. The young girl was holding a picture of her father. She couldn't stop crying. Her eyes, drooping from the strength used to produce tears, were still filled with them. Her dress, once a light green, had a splash of dark green from the tears.

"Sleep, child. You haven't had a proper night's sleep in days." The man begged.

"I can't, Gregory," she sniffled, "Papa, I just dream of Papa, and it isn't a good dream either." She hugged the picture closer to her heart.

"Oh my poor child, I know, but I want you to look your best when we get to Paris, my sister is waiting for you there."

The girl looked up at the man. "Madame Giry?"

"Yes, you will very much like her. Plus, she has a daughter around your age so you will have a friend."

The girl smiled at herself, "_Just what a really need right now, huh, a friend. No, I need my father." _

"We shall see, Greg, I just want to get to Paris already, father always wanted me to go there."

"I know, Christine, but first you must sleep." He removed her matching bonnet and started running his fingers through her hair. "The longer you sleep, the faster we will arrive." Within a few minutes, Christine Daae was fast asleep and stayed asleep until they arrived in Paris.

"This is the poor girl?" A voice asked in Christine's head.

Christine awoke to see a middle aged woman staring down at her. "Huh?" Christine rubbed her eyes, "Papa?"

"No, my sweet girl, my name is Antoinette Giry, I am Gregory's older sister," she started to help Christine out of the carriage.

A young girl, a few years older that Christine, was standing next to Madame Giry. "Hi," she exclaimed, "My name is Meg! Welcome to your new home, sister!" She placed a hard hug around Christine.

"Meg! Please let her go! Don't scare the girl," Madame Giry begged.

"Sorry, Mama," Meg replied, as she slowly walked backwards a few steps with her head down.

As Christine hugged Gregory goodbye, he mentioned something into her ear. "Don't forget what your father told you, he will send you the Angel of Music, he will."

"I know, thank you for bringing me here, Greg." She hugged him tighter and smiled.

Meg, Christine, and Madame Giry all stood to watch the black carriage ride away into the distance of the busy Parisian streets. It was official; the Opera Garnier was to be Christine's new home.

"Erik?" Jeanne asked. "Will we be together forever?"

They both laid on his Swan bed listening to the music playing above them. He stroked her hair lightly, Jeanne loved that.

"Even longer than that, my Dove." Erik responded, as a sigh. Jeanne was so confortable staying down there, down past the sewers, past the rats, down where a million candles burned that looked like a million stars.

Erik rolled and propped himself up using his elbows and looked down at his new bride.

"Do not worry, Jeanne, you are the one person who has loved me for me." He moved some of her wavy, dark brown hair away from her face. "I will never betray you, never."

He sealed that promise with a kiss.

* * *

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	2. Chapter 2 - 10 years later

Chapter 2 – 10 years Later

The Ballet House was not too far away from Paris, it was about 10 miles away. Older Ballerinas would move there once new Ballerinas would come into play. Jeanne loved being out in the country. She always saw herself there. The green hills and the fresh air would do anyone some good, especially Jeanne, where when she would stay at the Opera House, her nostrils would fill with the smell of sewer water and hot wax. It's been about 10 years since her and Erik made the vow to love each other forever, but recently he has been getting agitated due to Jeanne's lack of responsibility. They have been fighting and making up, fighting and making up, on and off for a year now. Jeanne knew why. It was because she moved to the Ballet House to make room for fresh faces. Plus, Jeanne is older and there is more pressure for her to get married and have children.

The sun came out right as Jeanne was leaving for the Opera House. She knew that Antoinette wanted to speak to her today, she was hoping that she would finally get to teach rather than be the oldest ballerina in the pack. Maybe it would calm Erik's mind and ease is so-called suffering.

She walked out with the second eldest ballerina, Margery, who always wanted to take Jeanne's spot as leading Ballerina. Her red hair and green eyes would always stand out in the crowd. She was a slender girl with high hopes, but she still had much work that needed to be done.

"I see the new ballerina's are doing quite well." Margery said, in a sarcastic voice. Jeanne knew Margery hated the fact that she didn't live at the Opera House anymore. When you move to the Ballet House you were nearing your time of "retirement".

"Relax," Jeanne replied, "They are fine, you cannot be mean to them, and they don't know how anything else works right now. It's not their fault that they are now replacing us. They look up to us. They learn from us."

Jeanne decided to compliment and critique Margery at that point. "You did quite well yesterday at practice. Just make sure to always practice if you want to outside the young women. I can always tell when you are not practicing."

Margery turned to Jeanne and stared at her with some sadness in her eyes. "I know, but they are so distracting!"

"Don't worry about them," Jeanne advised, "worry about yourself."

* * *

Once she reached the Opera House, Jeanne decided to venture to her old dressing room. She missed secretly going from her room to Erik's lair through the secret mirror he had built for her. It was a full length mirror with a double sided mirror. Its gold frame was so detailed and immaculate. Jeanne loved it. She walked into her old dressing room and found it completely different with roses everywhere and new sheets with gold embroidery. This was not her room anymore, someone else has taken it. Antoinette swore that no one would ever have this room, no one. That mirror was part of the room and a doorway to Erik's world. What if another Ballerina should come along and steal Erik from her? No, she would speak of this with Antoinette.

Right on cue, Madame Giry floated it. She was so graceful; you couldn't hear her coming or going. She moved like a true Ballet woman. Her black hair was tightly wound into a bun and she wore her usual attire; a brownish grey dress with black shoes and a black walking stick.

"Dear Jeanne, I must speak with you."

Jeanne turned around, shocked how perfect Antoinette's timing was. "Oh Madame, I…I didn't see you, how rude of me to ignore you like that!"

"It's alright child. I'm glad I found you here, I thought you might have some questions for me." Antoinette always had a calm but stern voice and she could sense that Jeanne was upset.

"Yes," Jeanne began, "Why is my room so different? Has someone moved in here? I thought we specifically said no one shall ever live in my dormitory. The mirror…"

"Calm yourself, Jeanne." Antoinette gently grabbed her by the shoulders. "All is well. I know about the mirror, yes, but we needed this room. We ran out of space and we need one of our newer chorus girls to live here."

"Who?" Jeanne's eyes started to tear. Jeanne has never been the jealous type, but now since someone else will be living in this room Jeanne's doubt filled her head.

"That is what I wanted to speak to you about today," Antoinette began, " Jeanne, how long have you been dancing here?"

Jeanne didn't want to talk about anything but her replacement, but she answered anyways.

"Almost 10 years, Madame. Why?"

Antoinette sighed. "I am getting old, Jeanne, and I need to spend more time with Meg and less time on teaching the new girls." She moved passed Jeanne and sat on the bed. Jeanne turned and kneeled beside her to make eye contact. She was upset about this whole situation, but she will never forget how Antoinette has taken care of her all these years. Antoinette was like a mother to her, and Meg was like her younger sister.

"I know, Madame, but what does that have to do with me? I knew you weren't feeling well but I didn't want to believe it."

"It is not like that, my dear, I am just tired," she took Jeanne's hand and held it, "I am retiring soon and I want to appoint you as the new Ballet Instructor."

Jeanne was shocked with Antoinette's request. She knew it was going to come, but she didn't really know, she only hoped.

"Really?"

Antoinette looked up at Jeanne with her greying, green eyes and smiled.

" My dear, you are our most successful dancer. I am sure you remember everything I taught you." Antoinette leaned in and hugged Jeanne. "I would love for you to take my place."

"Yes, Madame," Jeanne pulled away and took Antoinette's hands in hers, "Are you sure I can teach these young girls all by myself? I have no knowledge of authorization and they will not take me serious. They all know me as a friend, not authorization."

Antoinette smiled again. "They can relate to you, Jeanne. You can teach them how you became a lead dancer and how they can achieve the same. This will make Margery lead ballerina and you and I both know how much she wants that." With that, Antoinette sighed again and pulled her hands away from Jeanne and looked around the room. "There is something else you can do for me."

Jeanne raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"We have a bit of a …light-headed chorus girl as well. You know her, Christine Daae?"

Yes, Jeanne knew her very well and avoided her as much as she possibly could. She was Jeanne's replacement once she married Erik. A beautiful and bright little girl from Sweden who lost her father and was brought here to study; Christine was Antoinette's new light, new daughter. Not to mention, Meg also left Jeanne to spend more time with Christine since she was mourning for years about her father. Jeanne honestly only had Erik as a constant presence once Christine was brought here. She lived with Antoinette and Meg at their cottage. From the very beginning, Jeanne was always jealous of Christine's beauty and how she has grown. She would always keep a safe distance but whenever the moment presented itself she would always be polite and courteous to Christine, due to her past.

"Your other daughter, yes I do." Jeanne scoffed.

"Please Jeanne, this is serious. No time for jealousy, you are like a daughter to me as well."

Not to start an argument, Jeanne kept her mouth shut to let Antoinette continue.

"She needs a role model, all she does is distract Meg from her lessons."

"You need me to babysit her?" Jeanne was already shaking her head in a "no"motion. She couldn't hold her tongue at this point.

"Why would you want me to deal with Christine, you know I have tried to avoid her as much as possible. I didn't have you or Meg for years and only had Erik in my life. I felt like an outcast with you and Meg."

"Times are different now, Jeanne. Christine is now 16 and needs a mentor, a true mentor," Madame began, "All she does is dance around, singing to herself, and she never lets Meg practice. We both want Meg to become famous as well, don't we?"

"Of course, I love Meg like she was my own blood." Jeanne brought her blue eyes down. She knew that she had to do this. She knows how much it means to a daughter to spend time with her mother, especially now with Meg being 19, she is growing so fast.

"She has been dancing a while now, Christine," Madame Giry continued, "and I have brought her to the older group. That is why I moved her to your old bedroom."

Jeanne's mouth dropped. "Christine is going to be staying here? Are you mad? What about Erik!"

Antoinette's mood changed; there was a louder sound to the tone of her voice. "Erik will not touch her, Jeanne. He would never betray your trust! Yes, the mirror would have to stay here, since it is part of the wall. But we will bolt it from the other side so it can never be opened, unless Erik tries, but he won't."

"Please, Christine needs an older sister other than Meg." Antoinette's mood went back to the calm old women that Jeanne loved.

"Alright, I will come to rehearsal tomorrow for Hannibal, and watch her dance." Jeanne gave in.

Antoinette stood up, Jeanne mirrored her. "That is wonderful! I will see you tomorrow at rehearsals then." Antoinette kissed her cheek and rushed out of the room, not giving Jeanne anytime to react.

Jeanne was left alone, once again, in her old bedroom, which was now Christine's new bedroom.

* * *

The next day began with a hussle and bussle about Jeanne being the new instructor of the Ballet. She wasn't thrilled to be at the rehearsal of Hannibal, seeing that she will not be performing in it. This would be her first "sit-out" from an Opera. She never missed a season. However, she had to do what she had to do, watch Christine dance.

She saw from the corner of her eye, Meg and Christine chattering as they came down the spiral staircase. Of course, rehearsal started roughly 15 minutes prior to their arrival. Now she understood what Antoinette meant.

"Well, look who finally decided to join us!" Madame Giry spat out. Christine and Meg both froze. Then Christine's voice came out.

"Madame, I apologize it was all my fault, I…" Christine tried to begin explaining.

"Enough! Just go to the bars and begin your stretching. We have a show to practice for." With that, Antoinette turned over to Jeanne and eyed her, telling Jeanne this is what she was explaining.

She turned back to Christine and caught her staring at her. Jeanne hasn't seen Christine in months, even though they would practice sometimes together, but Jeanne didn't think much about her and practiced with Margery most of the time.

Her light brown eyes met Jeanne's blue eyes and then looked away.

"Oh, Jeanne, you made it!" Margery exclaimed and ran to her, breaking Jeanne out of her daze.

Jeanne giggled. "Yes, yes I did. I told you I would watch today, miss Lead Ballerina." Margery loved that. Her smile went from ear to ear. "Now go back and impress me!" Margery ran back to the other girls.

All of a sudden three men entered the stage. Two of them Jeanne didn't recognize but Monsieur Reyer, the Opera's owner, she did.

"Please stop rehearsal for a few minutes," Monsieur Reyer exclaimed, "I have very important news! I want to confront a rumor about my imminent retirement. I would like you all to know that this is all true." Jeanne heard the nasty laugh of their leading soprano, Carlotta Guidicelli, in the background.

Not acknowledging her, the owner continued. "I leave you in the hands of these two managers, Monsieur Andre and Monsieur Firman who will be taking over this fine establishment."

Jeanne didn't care about any of this and decided to leave while no one was looking. She secretly hugged Antoinette, who followed her out to speak to her.

"Well, what do you think about our little Christine?"

"I think I can handle her. I could do this, I could really do this."

* * *

Erik's lair was a darker place than she remembered it; less lighting from candles, more darkness from within. She was actually looking forward to telling Erik about her new "motherly duty" maybe he will want to have a child soon. She hasn't seen Erik in a few days so she thought it was about time. It was hard to live outside the Opera House just for that reason. She loved seeing Erik every night and spend hours with him, listening to the next compositions he would make. Lately he has been working on his new Masterpiece "Don Juan Triumphant". He's been working on it for the past three years. He wanted it to be perfect, which was understandable considering that he was a perfectionist.

She found Erik at his organ playing what he's been writing for years.

"Erik?" She asked, as in permission to speak to him while he was composing.

Erik quickly turned his face to her then his eyes softened to see Jeanne.

"Hello, Jeanne," His musical and velvet voice answered.

She started walking towards him and sat down next to his organ.

"I had the most interesting day."

"Did you now," Erik said, half-heartedly, as he was writing more of his music.

Jeanne noticed this, but ignored it. "Yes, I saw Christine Daae dance today."

His eyes lifted from the score. "Oh really, and how was that?"

"It went alright, I assume, we just made eye-contact, but I didn't want to speak to her at that moment." Jeanne dropped her head. "Antoinette wants be to mentor her."

Erik straightened out his musical score and set it aside. He took Jeanne's hand and they walked to the lake. They always did this, when they would talk about life. That's how it worked in their marriage.

"Isn't that sweet, my love, I can practice being a mother."

Erik smirked then looked at her as they walked side by side. "Yes, that is "sweet". The word sweet was highly emphasized. Jeanne knew that Erik never wanted to have children, but she thought that someday he would change his mind. He is just afraid that they would turn out to look like him.

"What about teaching? I thought you would be teaching by this time," he changed the subject, his voice heightening, " for god's sake, Jeanne, it's been almost ten years!"

Jeanne roughly pulled her hand away from his. This was the topic they would fight about the most.

"That is all you care about now-a-days, isn't it?!" She tried walking away from him, but Erik grabbed her by the arm and forced her to look at him.

"New girls, fresh blood, are coming in. Girls that are better and younger than you are coming in, Jeanne, you need to grab the teaching opportunity, or else they will exceed you and walk all over you!"

This made Jeanne cry. She would always cry when they would fight.

"No!" she said, trying to get out of Erik's hard grasp at her shoulders. "As a matter of fact, Antoinette told me I would be taking her place very soon, but before I can even tell you, you assume that I am doing nothing!" She finally rips out of his grasp, but falls backwards landing on her behind. Her tears came out more when she fell. "The one thing you care about most is that I have top of my rank, Erik! What now, Erik? I was cast out of the Ballet to become the instructor! I do not dance anymore! I have been awarded the highest rank! What now! I cannot excel anymore, will you drop me? Erik, will you drop me?"

Erik leaned down next to her and wiped the tears from her face. His face calmed and he kissed her forehead.

"I am sorry, my dove. I should have heard you before I snapped. You were speaking about children and I wanted to change the subject." He helped her up. "You know I would never leave you, I love you too much to leave you." He kissed her. Jeanne always forgave him, because he was hers and she was his, till death would they part. "Please, I know how to make you feel better. Let us go to bed, my bride."

Jeanne sighed. This is how they would always end fights. She knew it was unhealthy, but she had to do what he asked. It was the bride's duty.

"After you, my husband…"

* * *

**Thank you so much for your kind reviews! They help me keep writing! Please keep them coming! I know this was a pretty long chapter but there was a lot to write about. I work during the week so during that time, uploads won't be as frequent, but I will still upload. I upload for sure on the weekends so if you haven't please follow this story for more updates!**

**Thanks so much everyone!**

**xoxomoonlightrose1991**


	3. Chapter 3 - Meg Explains All

**I do not own any phantom of the opera only the story in my head! **

* * *

The following day, after rehearsal, Jeanne asked Antoinette if she could take Meg on an outing to speak to her about Christine and her day dreams. Of course Antoinette would do anything to get Meg away from Christine, so she agreed that it would be a good idea.

While walking in the park, Meg and Jeanne reminisced about when they were young and what they used to get into when they were being mischievous. An hour or two passed and Jeanne knew it was about time to have that talk with Meg about Christine, even though it would risk ruining the good time they were having. Jeanne led Meg to a bench and she took out two apples from her pockets and passed one to Meg.

"You must be famished; here I brought something to snack on." Jeanne tossed the apple over to Meg.

"Yes, mademoiselle, I am!" She put the apple to her lips and bit off a chunk.

Surprisingly, Meg started off the conversation. "Jean, my mother said you wanted to speak with me about something today?"

"Yes, Meg. Nothing to be worried about, however, I just wanted to ask you something." Jean took her first bite of her apple.

"Is this about mother's retirement?" After swallowing the apple, Meg asked.

Jeanne looked down at her bitten apple, nervous to ask Meg about Christine.

"No, it's not, little sister. It's about your friend, Ms. Daae." Jeanne tried to read Meg's reaction.

Meg laughed, relieved. "Oh, I thought I was in trouble or something happened with Mother!" She took another bite of her apple. "What about Christine? I know she has been slacking for a while but I know she is trying and I can see she is improving little by little each day!"

"Yes, your mother and I spoke about this. Your mother is scared you are not living up to your full potential hanging around that delusional girl." Christine's biased mouth shot out.

Meg paused; a glare came from her eyes. "Christine is not delusional! She just lives in a fantasy world that helps her deal with her father's passing." She turned from Jeanne and took another bite of her apple.

"I'm sorry, Meg," Jeanne sighed, "That is not what I meant. I meant that she is living in another world. Like you said she's somewhere far away sometimes. I see her eyes glaze over sometimes and she sings haunting songs to herself."

Meg slowly turned back around but looked out into the distance, past where Jeanne was sitting. Jeanne looked past her shoulder and found nothing. She knew then that Meg was hiding something. "She does that, doesn't she?" Meg replied.

"Meg? If I am to be her mentor, I must know some things about her. Why does she sing those haunting melodies to herself? She should be dancing. Is dancing not her passion?"

It took Meg a few seconds to snap out of her daze and realize that Jeanne asked her something.

"You must know something Meg," Jeanne continued, "I don't want to pressure you, but it's important to me to know what is going on if I am to be her new mentor."

Meg looked away again for a minute; Jeanne realized that it was hard for Meg to speak to her about it, like it was a secret for her to keep even if she was tortured.

Jeanne took Megs hand. "Please, let me help her." She tried to see into Meg's soul. She stared right into those light-transparent green eyes of hers. She had her mother's eyes for sure.

Meg started to play with her straight, blonde hair. "Please, Jeanne, you promise not to tell anyone. This is a big secret. She made me promise not to tell."

"How am I to help her if I don't know how?"

"Christine…" Meg paused.

"What about her, Meg," Jeanne coaxed her.

Meg sighs. "Christine believes that her father sent her the Angel of Music."

Jeanne was stunned. _"Christine still believed in the Angel of Music, after all these years?"_ She remembered when Christine would cry when the other girls would make fun about her dreams about the Angel of Music, she would always try to justify it by responding that one day he would come and save her from all of the other girls.

Jeanne half-laughed. "An angel of what?"

"Oh, don't pretend you don't remember, Jean," Meg furrowed her brows, " Christine always spoke about one day her father would send her the Angel of Music, and I was the first and last person she told about when he actually came to her in a dream. He sang her a lullaby."

Jeanne stopped laughing. _"A lullaby?"_ "Yes, I remember everything. How all the other girls would pick on her for being different," Jeanne gulped, "Do you know the lyrics to this lullaby?"

"How can I forget them," Meg exclaimed, exhaustedly, "she used to sings them every day before rehearsal. She says it brings her luck."

"Say it for me. No need for singing, but say it."

Meg stopped. "Remember, please don't tell anyone or speak these words."

Jeanne crossed her heart. "I give you my word."

Meg began.

"Your eyes see but my shadow, my heart is overflowing,

There's so much you can come to love, you've got my heart glowing.

Tenderly, you could see my soul.

Here in the dark, I only touch you in my dreams,

But will you ever hear my heart, the way it calls to you.

As if your name was branded, on the very soul of me.

It's calling like a child who's lost his way,

"I'm here – please say you hear me calling."

Please say you see me, please say you hear me,

Please give my heart its home. Don't leave me here alone."

Jeanne's heart died. That was one of the songs Erik composed before he started writing "Don Juan Triumphant."

"Yes, that's it," Meg started again, "an angel of music. She's crazy – mad. I try helping her anyway I can but mother doesn't want me to see her anymore." She looked up at Jeanne and saw that she was about to cry.

"Oh, no! Jeanne, why are you crying?"

Jeanne wiped away her tears. She had to hide this from Meg. "Nothing, those are just beautiful lyrics."

"Yes, they move me as well, but I guess hearing them so often, I have become immune." Meg threw the apple core into the waste basket. "Come, Jeanne, we should start heading back to the Ballet House. Mother will be worried. We can speak more in the carriage." Meg grabbed Jeanne's hand they walked back to the carriage. Jeanne couldn't believe it. Was Erik, Christine's Angel of Music? This can't be, he only loved Jeanne. Maybe he just felt sorry for her and wanted to make her feel better, that's it, he felt sorry about her dead father.

As they rode in the carriage to take them back into the country they continued their conversation about Christine. Jeanne didn't want to talk about it anymore, but Meg kept going.

"She is lost Jeanne, lost. I can't help her anymore. It's up to you now. I am hoping that you will fix this problem."

Oh, Jeanne will fix this problem. She needs to get to the bottom of this immediately. Tomorrow she planned to go and confront the "Angel" himself.

"Is there anything else she told you about the Angel?" Jeanne was in a talking mood now.

Meg sat up, shocked that Jeanne snapped out of her dream- like state. She knew that Jeanne had been in her own world in the carriage only half paying attention to what she was saying.

"I don't know anything more about him only that she thinks she hears him in her sleep. It's hard for me, I don't want to leave her, and she is very fragile. My mother and I both need your help if I am going to be great one day." Meg leaned back and closed her eyes, sighing. Jeanne couldn't sleep. She just stared out the window watching the Parisian city pass by, and the country side begins.

* * *

A few hours later, dinner was served in the dining room at the Ballet House. There were 9 ballerina's including Meg Giry who lived there. So a dinner for 9 ballerina's, Madame Giry, and a few other guests was a handful, but the women were able to do it.

"Lovely Jeanne, how is it over there at the Opera House?" A tall and lanky man, Monsieur Danube, was quite an annoying gentleman to Jeanne's standards. He was unfortunately invited my Madame Giry to join them for dinner because he was one of the Patrons of the Opera Garnier. All the ballerina's had to put up with him and since she was the oldest, Danube would always start conversations with her first.

Jeanne politely smiled. "Quite well, Monsieur Danube, Madame has named me her successor to teaching the new ballerina's when she retires so I can say I am doing quite well."

Danube smirks. " It'll be hard with all that Opera Ghost nonsense floating about, " he stuffs more potato into his mouth, "That is why all you ladies are living here, am I right? You are afraid of the Opera Ghost!"

Some of the ballerina's nodded their heads, but Meg, Margery, and Jeanne both exchanged glances in agreement that they were in fact not afraid of the Opera Ghost.

Madame Giry responded. "Monsieur Danube, Please!" She took a sip of water.

"We are not afraid," Margery protested, "we live here to make room for the new ballerina's in the new dormitories. If we could still live in the Opera House we would!" Margery huffed.

"Bah," Danube answered, "That, my dear girls, is utter nonsense. The entire ballerina circle screams at the slightest thing. The Opera Ghost is haunting you all, HAHA. I bet its Bouquet."

"I would hope not, Joseph should know better than to tamper with rumors," Madame Giry mumbled mysteriously to herself.

Jeanne knew that dark Madame. Whenever they would speak about Erik in that way, Antoinette would become quiet and mumble.

"But he is never around when the accidents come about, is he?" Danube had a point, all the naïve girls in the back started to whisper.

Both Madame Giry and Jeanne glared at him which started the next subject of conversation.

"My dear Jeanne," Danube began, "where were you last night? Are you finally being courted?"

One of the younger girls started to choke on her food at the end of the table. Another ballerina helped her.

Jeanne again glared at Danube again, she was beginning to be irritated by his crude questions. Meg stared at Jeanne in fear, knowing that she is very sensitive to the subject.

Danube looked around the silent table. "Or was that too bold of a question?"

She took some food to her lips and before she took a bite she answered. "Too bold of a question, Monsieur Danube."

"The only reason I ask is because I haven't seen you for a couple of dinners and we all missed you," again, he changed the subject, " By the way, this dinner is delicious. You women are brilliant. Everything is wonderful, I should say."

"Yes, you should," Jeanne replied, "If you must know, I have been working late preparing to take over the reins when Madame retires and sleeping at the Opera House some nights. It's interesting you mention the Opera Ghost, since all the years I've stayed there I have never seen or heard anything."

"Well poor little Jammes, she believes he's everywhere!"

"Little Jammes is 12, Danube, and you believe this little thing? You seemed like an intelligent man, I must have been wrong."

"Jeanne!" Margery laughed.

Danube cleared his throat, obviously embarrassed. " Well, I was only stating that…"

"Watch yourself, Danube," Gregory stated, "These women are feisty!" Gregory stayed to watch over Christine, but now his home was with all the Ballerinas at the Ballet House as Master of the House.

"Never mind, then. A change of subject is in order." He turned to Meg. "How are you doing my lovely Meg?

Jeanne burst out laughing. She almost forgot that she had to confront her husband tomorrow about Christine and her Angel of Music**.**

**REFERENCES: Lyrics: "Do Juan Triumphant" by Misha Segal, Phantom of the Opera 1989**

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**OH MY thank you for so many positive reviews! You guys make my heart soar, ew...was that cheesy? ANYWAYS, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and keep the reviews coming! Sorry I haven't posted for a few days, I was in San Diego for Business! Next post should be hopefully tomorrow or Saturday at the latest! Keep the reviews coming and make sure to follow this story to be updated when I upload!  
**

**xoxomoonlightrose91**


	4. Chapter 4 - Why?

**Thank you all for the lovely reviews! Now go on and read the next chapter :)**

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The next day, Jeanne and Margery walked out together to the carriage that always took them to the Opera House. Margery was not as chipper as she usually was.

"Jeanne, you know there has been talk." She looked at Jeanne with sorrow and doubt in her eyes.

"Oh, please! This Opera Ghost story is nonsense; don't think about what Danube said!" Jeanne laughed.

Margery stopped walking, Jeanne turned back to face her. Something was wrong, she could tell.

"It's not about the Opera Ghost; it's the other subject Danube mentioned. You are being courted."

"But I am not."

"That's the problem, Jeanne." Margery took her hand. "I am just watching out for you."

Jeanne stared at her for a moment trying to read her. "What?"

"You are the eldest here, at the Ballet House you are yet to be courted. That doesn't look good on the rest of us Jeanne."

Jeanne sighed; she knew this was going to happen one day. Her secret marriage can only last so long.

"Please I…I cannot talk of that right now. We need to go to the Opera House I have so much to prepare. I don't have time to talk about this." Jeanne stammered for the first time in a while. She wanted to come out to say she was already married, but god knows what Erik would say or even do to her if anyone other than Antoinette knew of their arrangement. It sent shivers down her spine to even begin to think. Before he married her, Erik made Jeanne swear that she would never break her silence. Stupidly, Jeanne agreed and now look where she is. Everyone thinks she's a prude but she isn't. She's married, but no one will ever know that.

"Please respect my wishes, Marg, no more talk about this. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Margery replied, "But please find someone, you never know."

After Marg boarded the open carriage, Jeanne heard a deep and manly voice behind her.

"May I help you up, Mademoiselle?"

Jeanne looked down at the hand that helped her up. It was strong, and clean with a white undershirt sticking out of a grey suit sleeve. Jeanne looked up and met a set of the most deep- and unreadable brown eyes. They were cold and serious. She saw a mouth with stern and medium sized lips and a clean shaven face. He was a handsome man, probably a few years older than her. She was enamored for only a few seconds until she came back to reality.

"Thank you, Monsieur ….?"

"Laroux." At that moment he slipped his hand away from her and turned his back towards the carriage to walk into the Ballet House.

_"Who was that man?" _ Jeanne asked herself as she her stare lingered until he entered that house.

Jeanne snuck right passed the ballerina's and past the stage rats. She never thought of herself as a stage rat, but at this moment in her life with Erik going behind her back and everything, it was such a shock. She knew Erik was a bit distant lately, but she had no idea it was because of that beautiful, Christine.

While she found her way into the secret door behind a few boxes 4 cellars down, she thought about Leroux. She couldn't get his face out of her mind and the questions started to boil up again, reaching the top of her head. Why was he there? All of a sudden? Who is he? She squeezed her eyes shut to take his image away and to set up her mind of what is to come with Erik.

"Margery was right," she told herself, "I need to convince Erik to come out of the shadows and be a real husband to me." Then again, Christine flashed into her mind. "I need to speak about this with him as well. So much to speak about, I already know how this is going to end!"

Down to the lair she went. She was used to this already, running down all the time like his slave. A slave of love, this is what she was. The millions of candles were there again, like a new life has been brought and it was like 10 years ago all over again. Now, Jeanne knew something was not right. She noticed Erik drawing on their swan bed.

"Erik?"

Erik quickly put away his quill and parchment and sat up. "My love, you are here quite early. Is something the matter?"

Jeanne rolled her eyes. "Where do I begin, Erik? Should you please tell me?"

Erik raised himself from the bed and walked towards his wife, slowly. "My dear, I have no idea what you are talking about. Please elaborate." The candles illuminated his mask and made it almost look like his real flesh. Jeanne always liked when the candles would reflect off his like that, but she had to keep her mind straight and not let the romantic setting overtake her mind. A tear left her eye as she struggled.

"Jeanne," Erik ran to her and held her in his arms, "my dear, why are you crying? What has happened?"

"The girls," Jeanne began as she tried to keep the rest of her tears back, "at the Ballet House, they told me I need to start trying to find a suitor." She raised her head to meet his eyes. "I want to tell them I already am, but I know I cannot! It's hard for me, Erik. I don't know how long I can live a lie anymore!"

Erik backed away from her, slowly, then turned and walked towards his organ. He sighed.

"I need to come clean, Erik," Jeanne called behind him, "Please, be in the light with me."

He started to take a look at his papers. "Oh Jeanne, my dove, you know I can't do this," he turned to her so only his mask would show, "you promised me, on our wedding day, that you would forever keep this secret. You promised me. I remember those words from your lips, 'I don't care, Erik, I love you and that is all that matters. It only matters in god's eyes' don't you remember that, darling?"

Jeanne looked down to ground. She did remember, how very stupid of her to say that. She was in love, however, and only 16 at the time. She didn't realize that her words would compromise her life today. "Yes, I remember." Then something told her to bring up Christine.

"Is this all a ploy so you can help Christine?"

Erik paused and gave his full attention to his wife. His body stiffened and his eyes widened, but then after softened again, as to put on a fake calm.

"Christine?"

"Are you her Angel of Music, Erik? Are you singing to her in her sleep? Is this why you have rarely wanted me to sleep here?"

"What kind of accusation is that?!" Erik's facial color rose.

"The way you are answering me, I believe a right one! Please Erik, tell me the truth. I will not love you any less, I just want the truth!"

The echo of her voice filled the entire place like an angels cry. She looked around to follow her own voice to one end of the cave to another. Then her eyes met Erik's once again. She knew he was lying to her and she needed to get it out of him before she herself would go insane. All was still for a few moments until Erik's eyes rose again, he slicked his hair back and opened his mouth.

"Jeanne, it's her voice…"

She couldn't believe it, but at the same time she was not surprised. All these thoughts bashed into her mind like an ocean wave crashing into the poor rocks that take a beating everyday by it. Christine had a beautiful but thin voice, sounding like distant angels whenever she sang. It was hard not to fall in love with her voice. Jeanne crouched down onto the ground and started into the lake. All she could see was the reflection of her poor and old self fading away as Christine, a young and beautiful girl, faded into that water. Jeanne took her hand and splashed it into Christine's reflection. She then felt a warm and strong hand grab her shoulder.

"Jeanne, please, do not be angry. It's merely platonic." It was her so-called loving husband.

"She is helpless and lost. She needs a help of an Angel to make sure she sleeps well at night. I overheard Meg and Christine speaking one night and Christine told her a story of an Angel of Music and how she has been waiting for him to arrive." Jeanne looked up at Erik with tear driven eyes. Erik took his gloved hand and wiped away her tears, and hugged her even more.

"I decided to take the role of her Angel and teach her how to sing properly so she could think her Angel had arrived and that everything would be okay. You know I am not an evil person, my love, remember what happened between us?"

Jeanne's heart hurt again. "Yes, I remember and now look at us. We're married. Is that what is bound to happen with Christine? Is she now the sad and helpless girl I was? Will you try to fix it by having her love you and vice versa?"

Erik took Jeanne's chin and kissed her, long but to Jeanne it was more for pity than for love.

"Of course not, my dove." Believing him, but still her heart hurting, Jeanne stood up and looked at her love.

"I..I need to go. You do whatever you want, Erik. You need to prove to me that everything is merely platonic. I just cannot believe you lied to me. All this time. I…I must go!"

She quickly ran and left Erik alone. He looked as she took the boat back to the world above.

As Jeanne rode herself back to the other side, she knew that things were going to get much worse. She docked the boat and before she went down the long path back to the Opera House, she looked back at the deep and black waters of her home.

"What can I do? I still love him, but Christine is now his new muse. Our marriage is now halted for her, it's not going anywhere." A tear fell from her eye. This was the truth. She turned back to the path and slowly walked back to the real world.

Erik rose and slowly walked back over to the swan bed. He ran his hand on the satin sheets and tried to remember how life was for him and how Jeanne was the only one who ever loved him for him. He reached under his pillow and took out a quill and the parchment he was working on.

"I can't keep doing this to her, she thinks our love will last forever. So sure our love is still strong as it once was," he stared at his drawing, "what am I to do?"

Christine's face stared back at his from his sketch as a wet drop fell on her face.

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**I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! This is kind of a sad chapter I think. What do you all think? Please review and follow this story to keep updated! I love reading reviews, it makes me keep going! Love ya guys! **

**xoxomoonlightrose91**


	5. Chapter 5 - The Show Must Go One

**HEY EVERYONE! Thanks for sticking around to wait for the next installment of this story, I am sorry It took sooo long to upload, I have just been extremely busy for the past week! But I am back yay! Enjoy this Story!**

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Jeanne ran to go to her old room, not realizing that it was now Christine's room. Tears fell from her eyes like she was just stabbed right in the heart. She slammed the door opened and ran to the bed and melted. She cried uncontrollably for a few minutes until she realized what she had done. She wiped away her tears from her face and straightened herself out. She had no time for this! There was rehearsal today for Hannibal. There was only a month left until the performance and she had to go down to help Antoinette with the girls. As she stood up to walk out of Christine's dressing room, the door slowly opened.

Christine waltzed right in to get dressed for rehearsal. Christine yelped when she saw Jeanne. They haven't spoken in years so this was awkward for both women.

"Mademoiselle Cayette, what are you doing in here?" Christine asked in her thin and pure voice.

"I apologize, Christine, I must have forgotten this is your dressing room now. Silly me." Jeanne started walking out the door when Christine grabbed at her arm. Jeanne turned at looked at the hand that grabbed at her.

"Jeanne," Christine started, "Please, stay. I know we don't have the best relationship in the world, but I know that Madame Giry asked you to be my mentor and I really want this to work."

Jeanne just stared at her, but agreed. She walked over to the bed and sat down as Christine was behind her dressing curtain.

"You know, it's been hard on me to not be able to speak to you all this time, Jeanne, I feel like we came from the same path."

"Pardon me?" Jeanne frowned. "We do not have the same past at all, I do not know what Madame has told you, but we are not the same person."

"Well, maybe not exactly," Christine answered from behind the curtain, "but we both lost our family and had to grieve."

"I had no time to grieve, Miss Daae, I had to quickly learn how to take care of myself and survive, you were brought here right after your father passed and you were taken care of, I had no one for about five years of my life."

Christine emerged from the dressing curtain in her red and gold chorus girl outfit. "I…It's hard for me to speak about it…"

Jeanne couldn't deal with Christine anymore and just went off. "The world doesn't revolve around you Christine; you are not the poor little girl Madame kindly took in. You need to stop your grieving and grow up! You need to stop and look at life to the future, stop dwelling in the past! It will never come back! Your father will never be alive again, just like my parents won't. You don't think I would love to see my mother and father every day? I don't! I assume they watch over it, but I don't talk about it openly to everyone I see to make me seem sad and vulnerable! You need to get a backbone, Christine! Stop playing the pity card!"

Christine was stunned and just stared at Jeanne. Jeanne didn't care, it was time someone told Christine the truth about how annoying it was to hear her crying about her father every day.

"That is the most truthful thing I have ever heard coming out of anyone's mouth."

Jeanne stared up at Christine, confused of what happened here. This was supposed to hurt Christine, but instead Christine was grateful?

Christine hugged Jeanne. "Jeanne, you are the only one to ever tell me what I didn't want to hear all these years; the only one who told me the truth!"

"Christine," Jeanne said, in a motherly tone, "I know how it feels like to lose someone who is the most important to oneself. I stand by my word, it is time for you to move on and dance with confidence not fear."

"Jeanne, I cannot dance anymore. My Angel doesn't want that to be my goal." Christine's eyes widened and she covered her mouth.

"What? What Angel?" Jeanne for a moment forgot about Erik, but once Christine mentioned him she was back to her bitter self, but she had to pretend to care to get all of this information out of her.

"No, I..I can't."

Jeanne took Christine's hand in hers. "Christine, what Angel? You mean your Angel of Music?"

"I promised not to say anything, Jeanne, if he finds out that I have said anything, I will be punished." Christine looked down at her costume.

"If I am supposed to help you, you need to tell me."

"He…He wants me to play Alyssa's part in Hannibal. I have told him countless times that I cannot but he won't listen. I need to please him, Jeanne, I must. He gets very angry if I don't."

Jeanne didn't want to know anymore. She couldn't believe that it was true, that Erik was tutoring her, just like he tutored Jeanne only ten years ago. Jeanne put a fake smile on her face.

"Christine, do not worry. You will sing if you want to and I will be there the whole time to help you." With that they set off down to the stage.

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Carlotta was getting ready for her solo as Jeanne and Christine came down to practice. They both couldn't stand that cow of a woman, with her red hair and her fake persona. Who was Jeanne to judge, she was being fake with Christine at this very moment. Meg came running up to them and started talking about someone named Raoul and how handsome he was and Christine was very quiet but said something about him not remembering her. Jeanne zoned out their childish conversation and scanned the stage for anything suspicious as Carlotta got ready for "Think of Me". She knew Erik would do something to ruin her just like he did with the Lead Ballerina, Simone, back when Jeanne was a young girl. Simone ran away after a few stunts of Erik's fine maneuvering or the Stage backdrops, never to be seen again. Rumors were that she moved to London to dance in the London Ballet. Jeanne didn't care, that put her in Lead and she loved it. Now he will do the same to Carlotta and move Christine to Leading Soprano, or at least try.

Everyone moved out of the way to let Carlotta have the spotlight. The music started playing.

"Think of Me, Think of me softly, when we said goodbye!

Remember me, one in a while; please promise me you'll try!

When you find that once again, to take your…" The backdrop fell on Carlotta almost instantaneously.

"He's there, The Phantom of the Opera!" Meg screamed as she ran to Christine and Antoinette. "It's him, The Phantom of the Opera!" Christine's eyes said it all; she didn't have to speak as Meg came to grab her. She was scared for her life. Jeanne stared up into the rafters and saw a shadow quickly run away, Erik.

Just then Bouquet, the Stage Hand, came back to the wheel to lift the backdrop off of poor, embarrassed Carlotta. "I'm sorry sir! I wasn't at my post!"

Andre, the new manager, yelled up at him. "Oh really, then who was it then?!"

Bouquet answered, "Please monsieur, there's no one here besides me! If there was, then it must be a ghost!"

The rest of the Chorus screamed as Antoinette tried to calm them down. "Bouquet, please, you are frightening the girls!"

Jeanne ran quickly to Antoinette. "Madame, I…I must go."

Antoinette nodded in approval while Christine grabbed at her arm. "Jeanne! Where are you going! It's safer here!"

"Trust me; it's safer for you here, my dear, for me, It is never safe."

"But Jeanne!"

"Do what you were born to do, Christine. I shall watch you sing soon. Play Alyssa if you choose. I know you will do great!" Jeanne said, as if she was saying goodbye for a while.

With that, Jeanne left in a hurry. Christine tried to follow but Antoinette pulled her away as if to say "leave her be". Antoinette knew that Jeanne knew about Erik and Christine, and time will only make things worse.

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"Are you trying to kill now, Erik?!" Jeanne ran into the chamber un-announced.

She saw Erik just taking off his black cape and tossing it onto the cavern's floor. He lifted his head to Jeanne with a look of confusion on his face. Jeanne could see right through it and suddenly all the beauty she saw in him turned into disgust. This illusion she was living in was over and she couldn't bear to look at him anymore.

"Erik, how dare you! How dare you turn up at practice and pull the same thing on Carlotta as you did Simone all those years ago!"

He walked towards her, as if trying to keep her in the trance that she has been in for the past ten years.

"No, my dear, you don't understand. I had to. I just hate that Carlotta woman, she had to pay. Christine…" he started.

"Christine…it's all about Christine." Jeanne turned her back on him. "You understand, dear husband, that Christine will not play Alyssa. She is not ready to play Alyssa. Do you think she is ready for that? She is hardly able to do anything."

"I know she is ready, Jeanne. She was born to play Alyssa. Her voice is so pure and light, just like Alyssa's should be." He came closer to her and turned her to face him. Jeanne needed to stay strong, she knew this was all just an illusion and that he was trying to charm his way again.

"You would risk her sanity by putting her on stage, she is afraid to sing in front of anyone let alone 1500 people." Jeanne pushed him and backed away.

"No one can resist her voice, Jeanne, not even the devil himself."

"Just like no one could resist the way I danced, isn't that right, Erik?"

Erik paused, he knew that everything sounded awful and that he wronged Jeanne, but he couldn't resist Christine's voice either. He was so drawn to it, so in love with it.

"I will make her great, I just know it." Erik ignored Jeanne's question.

"What about my husband, the one who claims he only loves me?"

"I still love you, Jeanne. You know I do. I will always love you." Erik tried to hold her again, but she moved away.

"Do you?"

"With all my heart, you know this."

Tears started falling from her eyes. Jeanne has been crying too much recently. She knew what must be done.

"Do I?"

Erik came closer to her and took a strand of her hair and moved it from her face as Jeanne moved her face away.

"What are you talking about, my dove?"

"You are obsessed with Christine; I know you are, you cannot hide it from me. The look in your eyes when you speak about her, I can't handle it. You have forgotten your wife, you have forgotten my love. All you care about now is Christine, and I don't think I can be nice with her anymore."

"Jeanne, I have not forgotten my wife. I have not forgotten you or your love." Erik grabbed at her and pushed her into his chest. "I… I do not know how to fix this. I love you, Jeanne."

She pulled herself away from his chest, still letting him hold her, and stared directly into his eyes to make sure he was paying attention.

"I cannot stand to be hurt by you anymore. I am leaving, Erik. You have been gradually becoming more different every day for the past couple of months. I will ask if Antoinette can teach until Hannibal starts. I will be back for the final showing."

He caressed her cheek, a tear leaving his eye. "Please, my love, my wife, please do not leave me. I can't bear to be without you."

"Erik, we are not divorcing. I just need some time away from you. I need to spend some time at the Ballet House, in the country, you need to help Christine, but I don't want to be part of it."

Jeanne felt pity for this man, she wiped his tear away.

"But that is nearly a month away! You can't leave for a whole month!" Erik's fear left his voice.

"I must Erik, to save our marriage." She backed away towards the gondola. "Goodbye, Erik."

He watched her get into the gondola and till she turned the corner and was out of sight.

"Oh, Jeanne." More tears fell from his eyes, but she wasn't there to wipe them away.

As Jeanne rowed away she couldn't help but cry as well. This was her life that she was leaving for a little while. Erik was all she knew about love and about life. He taught her everything she knew and she left him. The only man she ever loved was behind her in the past.

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**thank you guys so much for reading! Please let me know what you think I live off your reviews! Follow this story for updates! Thank you! xoxomoonlightrose91**


	6. Chapter 6 - The Scared and Confused

**Hi everyone! Here is the next installment of "Hellfire"! I hope you guys enjoy!**

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2 Weeks Later

Margery, Meg, and Jeanne have been spending a lot of time together recently, due to Jeanne taking a break from teaching. The sun shown down on the three women as they lied in the grass, gossiping about what was new at the Opera House. Jeanne didn't want to hear anything about Hannibal, but she knew that it was inevitable since the performance was coming up the Friday after next. This was a good break for Jeanne and she was able to clear her mind of all things negative, but she was dreading the day she would have to go back to the Opera Garnier.

Dima, the male dancer, joined them today. All the way from the Russian Ballet, Dima Sereninov migrated to Paris with nothing but a letter and his dancing shoes only a few months back. Excited to have a new male dancer, all of the younger girls begged for him to start as soon as possible and Antoinette couldn't refuse. There are so little of the male dancers that she had to take him in.

After lying in the grass for an hour or so, the four of them decided to walk near the river that was a few miles away from the Ballet house. As they walked Margery screamed out, "Look, look whose riding today!"

The rest of the company turned around to see what she was talking about. On a black and gallant steed was the man Jeanne met a month or so ago with another man, a lighter man, with golden blonde hair and a smile. Leroux had the same serious face and the same mysterious eyes. He stared at Jeanne once again, and turned his horse away without leaving her gaze riding away from the four of them, as the blonde followed. Jeanne eyes didn't leave him until Dima coughed to get her attention. She turned to her new male friend and saw that he too was staring at Leroux, but with malice instead of surprise like the rest of the girls.

Soon after, Dima asked Jeanne to walk with him in a shaded area, she agreed. They both sat under a tree and Jeanne decided to ask Dima what that stare towards Leroux was about.

"Dima, how do you know that man?"

Dima turned to her, "What man?"

"Leroux, how do you know him?"

"I don't know him personally, I have only heard rumors about him," he responded in his thick, Russian accent.

"What rumors have you heard?"

"I just want to warn you, he is not someone you would like to know."

Jeanne got on her knees and turned her whole body to Dima, so she could pay closer attention to what he had to tell her.

"Why not? I have been noticing him lately, do you know why he is here," her heart dropped for a moment, "he must be courting someone, am I right?"

Jeanne didn't know why she felt a bit jealous saying that out loud. She was married, it might not be a happy marriage, but she was indeed secretly married to the only man she has ever loved.

"Well from the rumors about his visit here, I can assure you Jeanne, what he is here to look at is the Opera Garnier. He has a fascination with it."

Jeanne slightly smiled with relief, "Really? Then what is he doing here at the Ballet House, surely he has money. He should be staying in Paris."

Dima gave her a stern look. "He is an uncommon and most unusual man, Jeanne. He doesn't like the city much, like you, he would much rather stay in the Country Side where it is peaceful and quiet and where he can think. He is very to himself. He doesn't speak much."

Jeanne looked down at the grass below her. "I can see that he doesn't. The only words he ever muttered to me was his last name, well I am assuming Leroux is his last name."

He turned to face her, his eyes surprised, "It's a great deal he spoke to you at all."

Jeanne smiled again. "Really?"

"Yes, he doesn't speak much, only thinks. He is a writer, you know. Writers are usually deep in thought most of the time."

As he spoke on about the Great Monsieur Leroux, Jeanne's mind went elsewhere thinking about those eyes, those brown- deep set eyes, which stared into her soul, but then they turned into her husband's eyes and killed her fantasy and brought her back to reality.

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The Following Night

Christine was standing next to the Mirror, where her Angel would teach her at night. She loved her angel and would do anything for him. She wanted to make him proud of her in whatever song or whatever dance she would do. However, she was terrified to play Alyssa and knew she couldn't do this without Jeanne being there for her, so her voice was a little off this night.

"Christine, my dear," her angel softly said, "you cannot force your beautiful voice into the part of Alyssa. You must become Alyssa and have the soft and innocent voice just like Alyssa is supposed to have."

Christine knew that her angel was disappointed but she couldn't help the fear that was building up inside of her. Hundreds of people would be at the show and she can't even really sing in front of even two people. How was she to do this?

"Angel, I hear you, but I cannot. You know that I am not ready for this." Christine sat down on her bed and started to play with her hair.

"You must be ready, Christine, your grand performance is in two weeks. My child, you must conquer your fears." Her angel replied a little harsher this time.

"I will try," Christine replied, her voice shaking.

Her angel's voice boomed. "No! That is not good enough! You will not try, you will do! What did your Ballet Teacher, Jeanne, say to you?!"

Shocked that her angel even mentioned Jeanne, Christine's voice cracked as she answered, "You… you are a good girl, Christine, if you want to sing, we will make it happen."

"Oh, Christine, don't you see? Jeanne wants you to do it. I want you to make her proud. You should sing, sing for her, sing for me."

"I, I don't even know if I can, or even if I want this."

Christine could hear her angel sigh, as if he had a breath. "Oh…Christine, you know you have the voice of an angel in heaven. You had the great honor of becoming Carlotta's understudy for a reason, because the angels in heaven chose you to sing their song."

His voice was now disappearing. "You will go on and you will do wonders. I must leave now…I will be there with you…on the stage… I will be there in your soul… you will never…be...without…me…"

"Wait, Angel! Please!" There was no answer.

With that, Christine was alone, in the dark, with her own fearful thoughts.

* * *

Erik stormed into his lair, furious. He started throwing and bashing candles into the cavern walls. He yelled on top of his lungs, since no one would ever be able to hear him. He rummaged through papers and took a picture of his bride, "Oh, Jeanne, look what you have done! The one thing I needed the most! Christine won't sing because you are not here!"

With that, he ripped her face in half.

* * *

**Thanks to everyone who has been following and faving my story! It means the world that you all enjoy it so much! If you haven't yet, please follow and fave this story to keep up to date! Also, keep the reviews coming! I would love to know what you all thought of this chapter! **

**Thanks so much! xoxomoonlightrose91**


	7. Chapter 7 - The Mysterious Leroux

**Well hellllooooo there everyone! Sorry for the long wait, I'm a turd, but please enjoy the next chapter and I have a few questions I would love for you to answer that are listed on the bottom of this chapter! Love ya guys and enjoy this part of "HellFire".**

A week before Hannibal

Erik Destler found himself sitting at the edge of his lake, running his hand against the surface of the water. Thoughts were running through his head, thoughts he would never have thought would happen. He didn't understand why Christine was so appealing to him, yes her voice was perfect and her looks were magnificent, but could she love him like Jeanne loved him all these years?

"What is this girl doing to me?" He thought this to himself. He never wanted to hurt Jeanne, the look in her eyes when she left him a few weeks ago still haunted his dreams and he tried to drown them out with the thoughts of Christine Daae. It was no use. It was true that he was furious with his wife, but the fury could only last so long, for she did truly love him and he is ruining it with his obsession with Christine.

"This girl, with her pearl- white skin, and dark eyes. She sings right into my soul. It's not my fault; this is the devil's work. It has to be." But was it? Was he just trying to convince himself out of reality? Were these not-so-new feelings true? Did he truly love Christine, or was it just infatuation? All these questions have been tormenting him for weeks for months even.

He looked down at his ugly reflection, "Alas, she only knows me as her Angel of Music." She could never learn to love him, he thought. His mask was sitting beside him as he washed his face and scars with the lake water. "Who could ever really learn to love me?" His reflection suddenly changed to Jeanne's.

"She is nothing like Jeanne."

Jeanne's face looked up from the lake with her happy eyes, of how they used to be. There was Erik beside her, hugging her 16 year old self. They looked so happy and so loving towards one another. There secret marriage, consummated. It was perfect. They had the perfect start. Then there was Christine's shadow looming over Jeanne, tantalizing Erik away from her. Laughing at him, mocking him. Erik splashed his hand into the reflections and scooted away from the water.

"What about after Hannibal, what will I gain out of it? Jeanne will not be pleased whether Christine did well or not. Why do I still want Christine after she plays Alyssa? Why have I grown that fond of her?" Questions again flooded his head.

"But Jeanne, why do I do this to her? She is the only one who loved me for me. She would do anything for me and I have betrayed her." He walked over to the swan bed and looked upon the shredded picture of his lovely wife. "I can still recall her face when she was truly happy." The photo, with his imagination, came to life. Jeanne's charcoaled in eyes cried tears as her smile turned sour and her face turned away from Erik.

"Please, Jeanne, you know I love you." Surprisingly, the portrait turned back and spoke to him.

"You might have once, my darling. You now know that your heart follows the music. You will never be truly satisfied if you don't have anyone to fix." Erik dropped the two pieces of parchment and turned to walk away from her, but she was still mocking him and calling him.

"You know that I have come to my maximum potential," her voice followed him like a gust of wind, "and now you found a younger and more vulnerable woman to follow." Erik covered his ears. "Do not run away from the truth, my love, soon you will be consumed by your obsession and will forget all about me."

"No!" Erik ran to the farthest edge of the cavern.

"You cannot escape your thoughts, Erik. This is all going to happen so fast and you will not even know what hit you."

"No! No! No!" After his third scream, all Erik Destler heard was the sound of his own echo.

* * *

At the Ballet House the next Afternoon

Jeanne was brought into the study by a tall, read-headed woman and asked to sit down. She did not know what this was all about. She thought she had done something wrong, which couldn't be the case, seeing she was practically the head of this house hold. All of a sudden, Monsieur Leroux walked through the door way. Jeanne tried not to make eye contact; she was always known to have a good poker face.

"I am sorry that Ebony brought you to meet me with such short notice, Miss Cayette," he started, "but as you may know, I am writing a book about the Opera Garnier and I have yet to come up with a plot. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?"

"No," Jeanne's voice cracked, "Ehem…not at all."

Leroux quickly turned his head towards her, notifying her that he had heard the crack in her voice. Jeanne's face reddened in embarrassment.

"Well then, let's begin shall we?"

Jeanne nodded, afraid to say anything.

"Miss Cayette, do you currently live at the Opera House?"

"I switch between this house and the Opera House, currently I am residing here."

"When was the last time you stayed the night at the Opera House?"

Jeanne didn't want to think about the last night she spent there but she kept her poker face on. "Three weeks ago."

"Why did you leave?"

"I needed a short vacation, I am the Ballet Instructor there and it was time for a vacation."

Leroux turned his head to her once more. "Right before the production of Hannibal?"

"Yes, all of the Ballerina's know there parts and Madame Giry is watching over them as I am here, training a few of the other girls separately. I just needed some fresh air, I am sure you can understand that."

Leroux eyes never left hers as though he wanted to see if she was lying, fortunately even though surprised how lovely her lie spilt out of her, Jeanne kept her face cool and calm.

Ebony spurted out a thought that has obviously been in her head for a long time. "What about the Opera Ghost! Have you heard anything about him?"

"Ebony, hold your tongue!" Leroux glared at his assistant.

Jeanne turned to Leroux, now she realized what he wanted from her. Not her life story, he didn't care about any of it. He knew that she was one of the eldest ballerina's in the chorus and that she would be the best person to ask about other than Madame Giry.

Ebony kept going. "My dear Monsieur needs to know about these myths and legends, my dear girl, this is what his book needs to be based on. He is just beating around the bush."

Jeanne's eyes went from Ebony's eyes to Leroux's just to meet his. She could see the pleading in his eyes saying that he was sorry for the outburst. Jeanne just turned away from him.

"Ebony," Leoux said as he cleared his throat and straightened out his jacket, "I can ask the questions myself, thank you very much."

"So that is all you wanted to know about, the Opera Ghost?!" Jeanne's voice grew a bit. She slammed her hands on her lap to get ready to get out of that study. "Well, I am sure you can't find that out from me. I don't know anything about an Opera Ghost , that is only the rumor that the little girls have been spreading around. You'd be a fool to believe them!" Her poker face faded extremely fast as she realized she shamed him and herself. Silence filled the room.

"You're lying." Now Monsieur had his poker face on and his eyes locked on hers once again, not letting hers leave his.

She glared at him now, "Oh I assure you, monsieur, I am not. The Opera Ghost is just that, a ghost story. If you wanted to check me, however, to make sure I am not lying, come to the Opera House this Friday, at 8 o'clock, that is when Hannibal begins. Watch Box 5. The children see him up there." Now she waited for his eyes to dart away. They didn't.

Ebony spoke out again. "That would be a perfect idea, miss. You can give monsieur Leroux here a tour of the Opera House, so he can get a new perspective, maybe hear some things he hasn't heard, and meet some children with strange illusions…"

Before Leroux could speak, Jeanne interrupted him with a chuckle. "The only child with the strange illusions is Miss Christine Daae, I'm afraid."

Leroux turned around in his chair. "Christine Daae, may I meet her?"

No. He can't meet her. He…he just can't, Jeanne thought as she spoke. "Christine? She is only a child, um…you know girls when they are young they like to dream."

Her eyes looked down, "Plus, she will not tell you anything, even if you ask her, it took her a little while before she told me anything."

Improperly, Leroux rose up and grabbed her two hands into his, Jeanne gasped, but Leroux spoke to her as if this was normal. "Please, Miss Cayette."

"Jeanne, you may call me Jeanne." She said as her eyes looked down into their hands.

Leroux then realized what happened and let her go. "It is for my book; I need this material. I must speak with her as soon as possible. I promise I will not mention you at all."

Jeanne, trying to be sly, smirked at his comment. "Can I even trust you?"

"What do you think," he stepped closer to her, making her and Ebony both uncomfortable, "how easily can you trust a man that you barely know?" His dark and beautiful eyes looked down at her. She couldn't and didn't want to look away. This was a moment that she didn't want ending any time soon, she forgot about the world of just a second. He touched her hand, he touched it. She could still feel them on her own. Then she remembered trusting Erik, but did she have a choice in the matter? She knew she had to be cautious, for now she had a choice. Her thoughts were interrupted with his voice.

"You do not know me, Miss Cayette, but you will." With that she backed away from him, excused herself and walked out calmly and surely without saying another word.

* * *

The Opera House: Performance Night

Jeanne was sitting in the Balcony seats, right across from Box 5. It was 10 minutes before the show was about to start and she couldn't find her mysterious monsieur Leroux anywhere. She knew that he had not attended on purpose; she guessed she couldn't trust him after all. She sat next to Gregory Giry who looked magnificent that night. He didn't go to Operas often, but when he did he dressed to the 9's. She had to beg him to attend with her this time due to everything that was going on, and since Madame and Meg were in the back rehearsing she needed a companion.

"Do you know the story of Christine? Do you think she is ready for this?" She whispered to Gregory.

He huffed, "Well, our little girl was doing quite well at all the practices. She sang perfectly there."

Jeanne was silent and taking everything in. She had never been in the audience before, and instead of talking more about Christine, she was scanning to see if Erik was hiding anywhere.

* * *

Down in the chapel, Christine sat in her white gown while lighting once last candle for her father.

From the shadows, her angels' voice came through. "You will be beautiful, Christine. Jeanne is waiting there in the audience, waiting for you to show your voice to her."

Christine looked up to the Mural of Angels, "Oh, I hope so." Then, did a silent prayer for her father.

* * *

Erik was up in the rafter, he saw his wife with Gregory Giry. He glared at her just remembering that night in the cavern.

"Oh, Jeanne," and with that, he disappeared once again, higher up into the rafters.

* * *

"Don't look now, "Gregory whispered to Jeanne, "Guess who's sitting in Box 5, that son of a bitch."

Shocked at his language, Jeanne had to look. "Oh my…"

There he was, Monsieur Leroux. He was actually sitting in Box 5, right next to the Viscount De Changy. Those two men were mad.

"He would sit there, wouldn't he?" Jeanne questioned Gregory.

"What do you mean?"

"He thought it was a challenge that I set up for him." Jeanne smiled staring straight at him.

And just like right on cue, Leroux's eyes met hers again, from across the theatre, Jeanne quickly turned her eyes away. With that, the Opera began.

* * *

The time had come for Christine, and Jeanne could see in her body that she was so nervous.

"Think of me, Think of my fondly, when we've say goodbye… remember me once in a while, please promise me you'll try…"

Her voice was shaking and even Jeanne was afraid that Christine might feint. For some reason her motherly instinct struck again, and she forgot everything that has happened. She wanted Christine to do well.

"When you'll find that once again you long, to take your heart back and be free… if you'll ever find a moment, spare a thought for me!..."

That last note was it; it soared like a phoenix had risen from within her voice and flew over the whole audience of the theatre. Jeanne knew now that she could sit back and relax, at least until the end of the performance.

"We never said our love was evergreen or as unchanging as the sea, but if you can still remember, stop and think of me… Think of all the things we've shared and seen, don't think about the ways things might have been…"

Through this song, Jeanne found the lyrics to be almost like Erik singing to her. They were her life. Did Erik really want to take his heart back and be free?

"Think of me, think of me waking, silent and resigned. Imagine me, trying too hard, to put you from my mind! Recall those days, look back on all those times, think of the things we'll never do, there will never be a day when I…won't…think…of…you!"

This song was so depressing to Jeanne, what if he wasn't in her life anymore. She couldn't bare that.

She looked across the theatre to see Raoul and Leroux Speaking during the performance.

* * *

Raoul grabbed Leroux's sleeve and whispered in a girlish fashion into his ear. "Can it be? Can it be Christine?!" Then he stood up and yelled. "Bravo." As Raoul did that, Leroux straightened himself out again, only to find Raoul gripping him again with his dark- golden hair and blue eyes staring at him and then back at her.

"Long ago, it seemed so long ago, how young and innocent we were. She may not remember me, but I tell you man, I tell you, I remember her!"

"Calm yourself, Man!" Leroux pulled Raoul off him. "Relax!"

* * *

"Flowers fade, the fruits of summer fade, they have their seasons so do we. But please promise me that sometimes, you will think…"

Jeanne and Gregory both leaned off of their seats slightly in waiting for this scale. It was perfect! Like, dare she think it, an Angel!

"OF, ME!" There was a roar of applause from the audience, nothing could ruin this night!

* * *

**Thank you all for reading the next part of this fan fiction! I hope you all enjoyed it! Sorry if it was a longer part, Please let me know with a review weather you like 2,000 words a part or 2,000+ words. It will take longer for me to upload longer parts as a result, but If you would rather have the parts be longer, I understand! **

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	8. Chapter 8 - The Sadness

**Hey everyone! Here is Chapter 8, Enjoy! I do not own anything except for Jeanne and the story line. Thank you!**

* * *

The corridors were crowded after Hannibal came to a close. Patrons, countesses, and other audience members of noble stature were crowding around the managers asking all sorts of questions. Meg had a hard time trying to find Christine through the crowd until she finally realized that she wasn't among them. She knew exactly where she was; the chapel. She pushed herself through the crowd until she found the door to the hallway to the chapel. She slammed the door behind her and sighed. She could finally straighten out her white Ballerina dress and the blue bow in her blonde hair. It was so quiet in that hallway that she wanted to sit there for a while and relax, but she knew she had to congratulate Christine on her successful performance.

Jeanne saw Meg run off, and she wanted to follow her. She wanted to congratulate Christine as well, even though she was still mad. She realized however, that it wasn't Christine's fault at all; it was all Erik's doing. Maybe she shouldn't go quite yet and let Meg and Christine have their alone time. The crowd of people also overwhelmed her. She saw Madame Giry congratulated for the performance of the ballerina's, but Madame brought Jeanne over and explained that is was all Jeanne's doing. This was the first Opera that she had ever taught and the attention was mind boggling. She couldn't help but blush and soak in everything around her. This is the first time she had been praised for anything in a while. She was distracted then by a man's voice behind her.

"Ah, Miss Cayette, there you are!"

She turned to find Monsieur Leroux walking up to her, pushing through the crowd. He looked stunning, wearing a dark blue, three-piece suit and a white shirt tucked in.

She straightened out and bowed. "Oh, Monsieur Leroux, you came!" Madame Giry slowly had the crowd follow her away, leaving Jeanne and Leroux alone.

"Yes, I managed to get a nice seat in Box 5 with The Count De Changy. You mean you didn't see me? I was sitting right across the theatre from you. I am sure you saw me." Leroux looked down at his hands. This is the first time Jeanne saw any vulnerability in Leroux.

She felt bad that she tried to play the naïve and ignorant card. "Oh yes! I did, I'm sorry. The performance was so breathtaking that I must have forgotten."

Leroux stood up straight and looked into her eyes, his puppy brown eyes, turning cold once again. "Oh, well…I guess I am that forgettable."

Jeanne panicked, "Oh, I didn't mean…"

"Never mind then," Leroux interrupted her, with a hint of coldness back in his voice, "Have you seen Christine Daae? I would like to have a word with her."

"Oh, her…" Jeanne muttered under her breath. Leroux raised an eyebrow, just like Erik used to do when he would initiate bedding. That stole her heart. Monsieur Leroux was so handsome, but she had to stay away from him because she knew it would never work.

"Well she should be in her dressing room; I hope you find what you are looking for. Goodbye Monsieur." She turned away when he called after her.

"Where are you off to, Miss Cayette? Would you not like to present me?"

She turned back to him as a crowd started to form again, "Madame Giry knows you are here, please see her. She will present you. I…I have to meet someone." The crowd then consumed her and Leroux couldn't see her any longer.

Leroux sighed to himself. "Something is very strange about that woman."

* * *

Meanwhile, Meg and Christine were chatting about the performance. There was a new light in Christine's eyes, Meg could tell. A new life awakened within her.

"Where in the world have you been hiding, really you were perfect!" Meg grabbed her hand. "Is it…Is it the Angel you speak of? Oh, I wish he could teach me!"

Christine looked at Meg with eyes of hope. "Meg, you know it's my father that sent this Angel to me! There for he is mine and mine alone," she giggled, "Here in this room, he calls me softly…somewhere inside hiding. Somehow I know he's always with me, he the unseen genius!"

Meg was worried now, but kept a smile on her face. She knew that Christine might be more insane that usual.

"Christine, you must have been dreaming. Stories like this can't come true," she took Christine's hand, and raised her up to leave the chapel, "Christine, you're speaking in riddles and it's not like you!"

Christine put her head down; Meg noticed and tried to make her feel better.

"But," Meg started again, "I watched your face from the shadows, distant from all the applause. I hear your voice in the darkness, but the words aren't yours."

Christine smiled lightly. "Let us go up to my room, we can talk more up there."

"Of course, dear," Meg followed Christine up the Chapel steps.

They entered Christine's Room, avoiding all the crowds by taking a back way. Meg always thought Christine could be so much more than just a dancer. She knew that there was an inner strength in her that would make her become something, but she never thought it would be some sort of an illusion. This Angel of hers scared Meg but she also knew that Christine was not completely comfortable with the fact of an Angel as well.

Christine sat on her bed, Meg followed.

"Who is this Angel, Christine?"

Christine looked up with sorrow filled eyes. "I…I don't know his name, he never revealed it to me. All I know is that here in this room he teaches me to sing and I have never been able to sing the way that I did tonight." She collapsed on her back on top of the bed.

Meg reached for Christine's hand. "If I can be truthful, Meg," Christine murmured, more to herself than to Meg, "It frightens me."

"Don't be frightened."

There was a loud knock on the door. Meg's mother, Antoinette Giry, barged into the room trying to push off all of the press that wanted to get a glimpse of Christine. "No! Get Away!"

She slammed the door behind her. "These men! I wish they flaunted for me!" The three of them laughed.

"Meg, are you a dancer?" Her mother asked, back in her stern manner.

"Well, yes mother, but…" Meg stood up quickly and straightened out her dress.

"Then go and practice! We still have two more performances next weekend!"

Meg quickly left the room, not knowing that her mother new all along whom the Angel really was.

* * *

Christine looked up at Madame and quickly rose from the bed. Madame Giry came over to her night stand and picked up a rose that Christine didn't notice before.

"He is pleased with you, Christine. You did well tonight." Christine took the rose with the black ribbon around it and just stared at it.

"Thank you, Madame, I hope he will always be pleased with me."

Madame Giry smiled, knowing the truth and keeping things to herself all these years took a toll on her. She was always very tired. Instead of sinking in to these feelings, she then remembered that she had to tell Christine about the Author.

"Christine, there is a gentleman here who would like to speak to you."

Christine looked up, a bit horrified. "Who…who is it Madame?"

"No need to fear, my dear, it's just an Author. He just wants to ask you a few questions; he is waiting for you outside. Shall I let him in?"

Christine walked over to her mirror and gussied herself up to try and look somewhat presentable. "Yes, yes you may."

Madame sighed, and brought the man in.

* * *

Meanwhile, down to Erik's home, Jeanne made her way. She walked past the cobwebs and the five levels under the Opera's main cellars. She knew where all the booby traps were and avoided them. She finally reached Erik's home and saw him taking off his cloak.

"Erik…" Jeanne said, in a weak but semi-loud voice.

Erik stood with his back towards her, still for a few moments. "Jeanne, you came back." He turned to find her face in a very serious manner. Her eyes pierced his soul, this was not the old Jeanne, this was a stronger and more stable Jeanne.

"Yes, I did, I said that I would Erik." Her voice didn't soften one bit. Jeanne knew she had to be strong because if she showed one bit on vulnerability, Erik would catch it and use it against her.

"Did you enjoy Christine's performance?" Erik took a step or two forward, but didn't dare anymore. He was actually quite taken back by her attitude.

"Yes, I did. Were you satisfied with it?" Jeanne stood her ground.

"Of course I did," Erik paused, not sure if he should say the next thing that was on his mind, "You look different, Jeanne."

Good. Jeanne thought. "I do not know what you mean."

They stood there, ten feet between them. Erik just gazing over Jeanne with wanting eyes, he wanted this new Jeanne, and he wanted to fight with her, in bed, take out all the rage that they both had between each other. He wanted to strip off everything and take her; he wanted her to put up a fight.

Jeanne on the other hand didn't even want to be in his presence. She knew the look that he was giving her and she knew that he wanted her. Even though she wanted so much to please him, she couldn't. When a man is aroused there mind isn't clear and there body thinks for them. She knew if she did give in to him that he would cast her aside again after it was all over. She wanted him to only want her, all the time. Jeanne stood her ground.

"You look stronger and more beautiful than ever." Erik snuck another few steps towards her, but was careful.

Jeanne just stared at him, trying so hard to scare him away, but all it was doing was making him advance towards her.

"You look so upset as well, Jeanne, shouldn't you be happy to see your husband?" Another few steps, they were about two feet apart now. She could smell his familiar smell now. The smell she fell in love with.

"You mean a secret husband." He voice wasn't as strong as before. Sadness filled her heart taking over the anger. She tried so hard to keep her poker face on. He was right in front of her now. He brought her chin up so he could stare into her eyes once more.

"Why do you torture me in this way, Jeanne? You know I cannot be seen," he leaned in to try and kiss her.

She moved her face away so he kissed her cheek. He brought her face back to him. "I missed you so much, Jeanne. Please come to bed with me. I need you."

Jeanne pushed him off and quickly backed away from him. "No, I will not." She remembered herself.

A look of frustration spread across his face like wildfire. "If you don't come to me, I will come to you!"

Panic spread all over Jeanne's body as he walked faster towards Jeanne as she tried to back away, but she hit a wall and couldn't go any further. He pushed her shoulders back into the wall and put his lips on hers. He pressed his body against hers to try and feel every inch of her. Jeanne struggled at first but he was too strong. She melted in his arms.

He then stopped the kiss and they stared at each other for a moment, until Jeanne made the mistake of leaning back in for more. He picked her up as they kissed and brought her over to the bed and laid her down a top of the satin sheets that she missed so much.

"Oh, Jeanne," Erik said, in between kisses, "I've missed you so much." He started to undress her and she started to undress him. The passion was boiling up in both of them.

All of a sudden, Erik stopped and looked at her, tears started to swell drop from his eyes onto her face.

"Jeanne, I…I…," he started to rise from her, "I can't do this to you!" He bolted from the bed and started putting his clothing back on.

Jeanne sat up from the bed, confused. "Why? What did you do?"

He just cried and moaned in grief. Jeanne had no idea what was going on. She put her dress back on and ran to him, she didn't know how to stop him from trembling the way he was.

He hit her hand away from him. "Jeanne, please! I need…I need you to leave. I…I need to be alone."

Jeanne not understanding what was happening, asked again, "Erik! What did you do!?"

"Please," Erik turned to her, his face red and wet with tears, "You must go! It is almost time!"

"Erik, PLEASE!"

"I love you Jeanne, but please, you must go now! I will come for you." He quickly disappeared to the other side of his house.

He left Jeanne there alone, to wonder back up to the dormitories, knowing deep in her soul he stopped everything because of Christine…

* * *

**Thanks for everyone who has been following my story! It means so much to me that you are all sticking with it! Also shout out to the awesome people who found this story through my YouTube Channel "Deviltakesdahindmost9" you guys are so awesome! I appreciate every single review and every new person I meet here, so please, keep the reviews coming and make sure to follow this story and fave to get updates on when I upload!**

**xoxomoonlightrose1991**


	9. Chapter 9 - Can you Handle it?

**HEY EVERYONE! Sorry for the delay, started a new job but I got this chapter in and I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

Christine was quiet when the man walked in. He was tall and very serious looking. He took her hand and kissed it.

"Mademoiselle, my name is Gaston Leroux and I am very grateful for giving me permission to pay a visit to you tonight."

"Of course, how may I help you, Monsieur?" She was very soft spoken and was scared of why he has come for her.

"May I sit?"

Christine moved to the side of her vanity and pulled out the chair for him. Gaston pulled out his notepad and took out ink and a quill and opened it notepad to the middle of it.

Firstly, Mademoiselle, did Madame tell you about me and why I am here?" He cleared his throat and put his quill down.

"Yes, a little, you are an author?" Christine was standing and looking down at him. He was quite handsome but she knew she could not dare and look at any man for her Angel would be angry.

"You could say that," Gaston chuckled, "I am a man of great ideas and who writes down dreams in a book and makes them a reality." His eyes looked at the girl, "Do you have any dream, Miss Daae?"

"No, not really, I am pretty to myself; I don't allow myself to dream too much." Christine had to keep to herself, if she said what was really on her mind, this author would think her crazy.

"But you must, I mean, singing like you did tonight, was like a dream to my ears. Can you say to be the star of a show is not a dream?"

Christine swayed a bit to the side. "Well of course every girls wish is to be a star, I suppose."

"How did you come about becoming that? How did you go from a chorus girl to the Diva?"

"Well, my father was a violinist before he passed away and I would sing along with him."

Her answers were short, too short for Gaston's taste, he could tell she didn't want to reveal too much to him. She swayed nervously and was slowly speaking as if to check her words before she spoke aloud. She never looked at him and tried avoiding eye contact when he spoke to her.

"I am terribly sorry for your loss."

Again her eyes were down, avoiding his own.

"It's fine Monsieur; I have angels protecting me now." Her eyes widened a bit as she looked down. There is was the one thing she was trying to hide from him. She kept her nerve, but Gaston could see right through that.

"Angels?"

Her eyes finally met his. They were so scared and begging for Gaston to stop with the questions, but it didn't matter to him, he needed this for his book.

"Yes, Angels. Everyone has angels, do they not, Monsieur?"

"Yes, they do, miss. Your Angels seem to interest me more; however, what is your Angel like?" Getting hints from Jeanne really helped him here.

"My Angel?" She asked, quietly.

"Yes, yours."

"You will not find me insane, Monsieur?"

"I am an Author, Mademoiselle, I myself and I dreamer like you."

She came close and kneeled next to me. "My Angel did not think I was ready to be a Diva until now. That is why it took this long for me to try."

A candle flickered and a wind blew it out next to the mirror. Christine gasped. That's when Gaston noticed the rose next to the blown out candle, sitting in a crystal vase with a black ribbon tied around it.

He took Christine's hand in his, she turned back to him. Her young face flushed and her youthful eyes full of fear. He could now see that she was truly just a child, putting on a face so she would not show her true fear.

"Christine?"

She nodded.

"This Angel of yours, did he give you that rose?"

She quickly took her hand from his and her mouth opened slightly as to grab more air. She stood up and walked towards the golden mirror.

"Miss Daae, I believe that there is more to you than you are letting on." Gaston put away his notepad, this was something he would remember for long enough to right in his main notebook at the Ballet House. "Are you afraid to tell me who gave that rose to you?"

She turned to face him, the same youthful and frightened face was there but now her eyes started to tear. There was something tormenting this girl, and Gaston wanted to know everything she knew.

"He isn't an Angel, is he Miss Daae? This 'Angel' of yours is real, isn't he?"

"Please!" She shouted, in an immature and childish sort of way. This took Gaston by surprise. Christine was not what he thought and she was keeping something from everyone.

"I…I cannot, I'm sorry." Her tone was back to the shy, quiet tone.

Gaston stood from his seat, making Christine back away, and then he made his way to the door of her dressing room.

"Then, I have no more questions for you. Thank you so much for your time, Christine Daae." He courteously bowed as he exited.

Christine followed his bow and once he left her dressing room she collapsed on her vanity chair, stared into the mirror, and sobbed.

* * *

BEFORE SHE WENT TO SEE ERIK

Jeanne was on her way to go see Erik, when Meg caught her.

"Oh Jeanne, what a great choreography tonight, the other dancers and I felt amazing! It was all because of you!" Meg gave Jeanne a big hug.

Jeanne giggled. "Meg! Stop that! By the way, have you told Christine that Leroux is going to see her? I saw you go and find her."

"My mother told her, she should be in her dressing room now waiting for him."

Jeanne wasn't sure if she should speak about Leroux to her best friend, but she couldn't hide that she wasn't interested in him, just because everyone expects her to be courted.

"That Leroux, he is one interesting character, isn't he Meg?"

Meg smiled mischievously. "What do you mean?"

Jeanne caught herself again and realized where she was running to. "Oh Meg, forgot I have to be somewhere, we will talk later?"

She pushed by Meg and scurried away. Meg didn't even have time to say goodbye.

* * *

There was a knocking at Christine's Dressing Room door. Christine didn't know if she could handle any more visitors tonight.

She heard the door creek open but she just stared at that single rose that caused her so much pain.

"Christine Daae, where is your scarf?"

Christine turned to see a blonde gentlemen standing in front of the door he just closed. She didn't have the strength to be frightened any more.

"Monsiuer?"

"I can't believe you! You can't have lost it, not after all the trouble I took. I was just a boy, not even fourteen and soaked to the skin!" The young man's blue eyes shown with excitement.

Then Christine remembered and had no care in the world about anything else but her beloved, Raoul De Changy.

"Because you had run into the sea to fetch my scarf!" She stood from her chair, and ran into his arms. He lifted her from the ground. "Oh, Raoul, so it is you!"

They reminisced about the old days back near the shores and how they would play and sing together in the Attic. Her father played the violin and he would tell ghost stories of the north and how that summer they were together always. Christine was so happy he found her.

"You found me, Raoul."

"No, Christine. This…this was destiny."

She laughed and hugged him again. "No, what I love best, Lotte said, is when I'm asleep in my bed, and the Angel of Music Sings songs in my head!"

She separated herself from the warmth and the strong build of Raoul.

"Father said, 'When I am in heaven child, I will send the angel of music to you'. Well now father is dead and he has brought to me the Angel of Music!"

Raoul stroked her cheek. "No doubt of it! Now where shall we go for supper?"

"Raoul, I can't. The Angel of Music is very strict." Christine straightened out her white robe.

Raoul stood up and started walking to the door. "I shan't keep you up late! I must get my hat, two minutes Little Lotte."

She stood as the door slammed. "No, Raoul wait!" She was left in silence. "Things have changed Raoul!"

Before she showed herself to daylight again, Jeanne stopped and her anger got the best of her.

"No! I can't let him run from me." She turned back towards the caverns and walked quickly back to the place she used to call home.

* * *

"Insolent boy, this slave of fashion, basking in your glory!"

Christine was frightened and mesmerized at the same time as her Angel, as she knew, was angry with her.

"Ignorant fool, that brave and young suitor, sharing in my triumph!"

Christine interrupted him.

"Angel I hear you, speak I listen. Stay by my side, guide me! Please, he was no one, a mere childhood friend. You are my one and only! Enter at last, I beg you, Master!"

Her Angel of music sighed. "Flattering child, you shall know me. See why in shadow I hide, look at your face in the Mirror and I am there inside."

Christine then saw him, his white mask, his tall and thin build, and his piercing eyes. He beckoned to her and she came through the mirror.

* * *

Jeanne went through the caverns and came to the boat, for some reason the boat was gone and there was just a raft used for emergencies. But alas, she had to take something across the lake. As she rowed all she thought about was Christine and Leroux and everything was just meshing together in one blurry vision. She couldn't distinguish one nightmare from another. She finally made it to the other side of the lake and tied the poor excuse for a raft to the dock. She saw all of these candles burning again and a panic started to wash over her. Her thoughts were clear but she dare not say what she thought because then her thoughts would be real.

She snuck into one of the escape tunnels used in another mirror. The mirror in her old room wasn't the only travel mirror there was, there were four more. She pulled back the curtain of the one sided mirror and saw something that she thought and wished she would never have to see, ever.

"Welcome Christine to my Sanctuary."

Erik's voice was again that chocolaty voice that she used to hear when he would court her.

"What is Christine doing in here?" Jeanne whispered to herself.

He started to kiss her neck and he moved his hands down Christine's back and grabbed her hips.

"Christine, you must answer this question."

"What question is that, My Angel?"

Jeanne almost gagged; she found this whole thing disgusting. The next words that came out of her husband's mouth were the last words she would ever remember him saying.

"Christine, do you love me like I love you? I love you so much, Christine."

Jeanne's heart skipped a beat and she just turned and ran, she ran and rowed so fast back she didn't want to turn back, she never wanted to see him again. She didn't want to believe that Erik Destler, her one love, her one and only, could do this to her. This was the day that changed her life, this was the one thing that finally let her be free, that could let her truly never think about him again. Her love was so strong she stayed true for 10 years and look what this man did to her. She loved him for him and he loved her. He saved her and she married him and this…this is what he does!? She ran and ran. She finally reached the outside and it was raining.

"How perfect," Jeanne yelled at herself as she ran through the rain. It was dark and storming and she ran through the back stage so no one would see her leave.

She reached the park right outside the theatre and just dropped herself to the grass and cried. All of her frustration came out from being bottled up inside for so long. The rain cooled her face and calmed her nerves a few minutes later.

"Ms. Cayette?"

Jeanne opened her eyes to find Monsieur Leroux staring down at her.

"What are you doing out here in the rain? Why are you so upset?"

In the state she was in, she didn't know whether to finally reveal her secret or not. It didn't matter to her anymore.

* * *

**I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! I really appreciate the amazing reviews and support I am getting from you guys! Keep em coming! Please let me know what you think so far! **

**THANKS AGAIN! LOVE YOU GUYS!**

**xoxomoonlightrose91**


	10. Chapter 10 - Just Give In

**Well Well Well, look who decided to crawl out of work mode to actually write something! GAH I can't believe it's been about a month since I have posted! Bad ME! Anyways apologies again for being a poop and here is Chapter 10!**

* * *

Jeanne stood in silence, just wondering if this was all a dream. Of course, Leroux would be here when she needed him. He always emerged out of the blue when least expected. The rain poured down hard and helped her hide her tears. She was never one to cry in front of anyone, she would always just wait or hide if she ever felt like a good cry was coming.

"Ms. Cayette, is everything alright? What were you doing lying there on the grass? I thought this would be a great night for you, with your success and everything."

Leroux wasn't wearing his hat so his hair was wet, wrapped around his forehead. He took his palm and swept it away. He stepped closer to Jeanne and extended his arm.

"Come, let's go back inside. You must be freezing out here."

Jeanne moved back. "No."

Leroux took back his hand; again his face has that doubtful look upon it.

"I mean no thank you. I…I like the rain, it calms me. Yes, it is cold, but I sometimes enjoy it." Jeanne sighed.

"I see, well then I suppose the rain can do me some good as well, I need some time to think anyway." To her surprise, Leroux sat down on the muddy grass and leaned back on his elbows, letting the rain hit him in the face.

Jeanne sat beside him; she wrapped her arms around her legs and laid her chin on her knees.

They were there, together, and alone. A few minutes later, Jeanne couldn't bare it anymore.

"Monsieur Leroux, please, I know what you are trying to do." Jeanne turned her face to look at him.

"What is that?" Leroux said, without opening his eyes.

"You are trying to figure me out; well I am in no mood for that! You have no idea what I have been through."

He opened one eye, "Maybe if you were to tell me, I can help you."

His playful gesture was unlike anything she had seen before come from him. This made her angry.

Then he sat up, knowing of his mistake.

"Please, Ms. Cayette, let me help you."

Jeanne signed once more. "No one can help me; I have just been a fool that is all."

Again making a bold gesture, Leroux put his hand on Jeanne's knee. She flinched, but for some reason didn't push his hand off. She needed the kindness right now. Then she remembered his book. He wants to know what is wrong for his book, so there can be some drama for it.

"Plus, I don't want to get in the way of your book, Monsieur, know that is the most important thing for you."

Leroux sat up all the way now, with his legs crossed and he turned so his whole body faced Jeanne.

"Is that what you think?"

"Are you to tell me it isn't? Your book is what brought you here! It's what makes you stay and question everything and everyone! All you care about is your writing and I don't blame you. If I was a writer I would only care about that as well."

She paused to wait for him to speak, but Leroux said nothing.

"I don't think that just because you are a writer, however, all men care only about themselves and what makes them happy."

"Mademoiselle Cayette, how could you think that all men are like that? It seems to me that you do not have any experience with men to judge us all equally."

She crawled towards him, like a jaguar stalking its prey, she didn't care if her hands were all muddy or she ruined her dress.

"How dare you! You don't know anything about me to judge me! If you only knew what I know of men!" She stopped. She had said too much, now he must think of her a whore.

He stared at her with wide eyes. Not knowing what was going through his head, she started to stand to run, like she always did. Before she could run, Leroux grabbed at her arm, which he seemed to do quite often with her, and pulled her to him.

"I don't care, about other men you have been with."

"No," she struggled against him, but this time he didn't give her up. "I'm sorry Monsieur, that's not what I meant…I….I meant that you just don't understand me. No one will ever understand the burden I hold on my shoulders." She kept her eyes down. She knew that if she would look up at him, that would be it and she would be his, she didn't want to risk being anyone's anymore.

"I want to lift some of that burden off of you, only if you would let me." He took one of his hands away from her and tried to bring her chin up, but she resisted.

"Please, Monsieur…I can't."

"Gaston."

"What?" She kept her head down.

"My name, you can call me Gaston."

"...Gaston…" She started to bring her eyes up.

"How do I know you aren't doing this just for your book?"

He stroke her cheek, the kindness was overwhelming for Jeanne.

"I assure you, Gaston, that if my life was put into that book of yours it would be depressing and boring and you would not sell many copies."

"I promise you will everything in my soul, this will not go into my book. This is just us, real life, no fairy-tale for a book."

"How can I be sure?"

He took his eyes away from her and let her go.

"Ms. Cayette…"

"Jeanne, please."

"Alright, Jeanne…"

He shuffled around a bit.

"This…this is hard for me to admit, I am not a very open person, Jeanne. I…I have never really felt this way about any woman before and I am trying very hard to make you happy… I…I care about you, about your feelings…I would never want to …hurt…hurt you."

Jeanne couldn't understand why he was saying all of this. Erik was never the type to be scared of saying things to her. Gaston seemed to be the same as Erik, cold and distant. Somehow this man that was so mysterious was acting like a child.

"Please! Gaston," she took her hand and covered his mouth, "You can't speak like this here, if someone should hear…"

"There is no one here, Jeanne, only you and me. I am trying to tell you that I…"

She cupped his face in her hands, "Please, I beg you…" she whispered, "even if there is no one here to see us, it doesn't mean that someone won't hear us."

"What do you mean?"

Jeanne sighed. "There is something that you don't know about me, about this Opera House. Something is there, not an Opera Ghost, but something else…"

Gaston backed away from her, with an annoyed expression on his face.

"Come off it, Jeanne! I tried to speak to Christine Daae about it, she won't tell me anything! There is certainly a ghost about, and I am going to figure out what it is and where it is."

This time it was Jeanne to grab his arm and pull him in for a hug.

"Please, don't…"

"Jeanne, Christine is scared of something and I am going to figure out what it is, even if it kills me!"

"Gaston, he will kill you!"

She put her arms around his neck into an embrace to try and get him away from the stupid idea of him finding Erik.

"Gaston," she whispered in his ear, "he will kill you if you get to close to uncovering the truth."

Gaston moved back from her and held her, not too tightly, by the shoulders.

"Who? Jeanne, who will kill me?"

Jeanne easily pushed his hands away from her again, this is the moment that she feared. She had to open her stupid mouth and blurt out a secret she had kept hidden for ten years. This is why she never wanted to get close to Gaston Leroux, she knew that she would tell him about Erik.

"Please," she turned her back on him, "don't make me tell you."

"I want to know, Jeanne, if someone is hurting you and making you keep your mouth shut, I must know! I need to protect you."

"You cannot protect me, only I can protect me. There is nothing you can do for me or this god forsaken Opera House."

"I will protect you, even if you don't want me too. I know this has a connection with this Opera House and I will find that out as well. If you don't help me, I will go along myself and see to it that whoever or whatever is haunting this place will be found." Gaston was now furious, his brows furrowed and he started to pace back and fourth.

"Gaston!" Jeanne yelled back to him, he did not stop pacing. "I don't want you to die! You will if you look into this anymore than you have!" There was thunder now roaring over them, lightening then followed. Jeanne was never scared of lightning and thunder, again she found it quite calming. Gaston stopped, the thunder pulled him out of his trance.

Tears fell from Jeanne's eyes. This argument was so overwhelming for her she couldn't take it anymore. She had to come out and say the feelings she felt even though she knew that didn't want to believe that she could feel for someone else other than Erik.

"Gaston, please," she sobbed, she dropped onto the muddy grass, "I don't want you to die, I don't want you to leave. I don't want to be here in this place without you. I have feelings for you that I cannot help. It's killing me and I don't know what to do!" She sobbed so hard; she couldn't hear anything but her own thoughts washing around in her head. She knew she could never have Gaston because Erik would kill him, but the love she had for Erik was so strong that feeling something else for another man hurt her heart.

She felt hands on her face; cold, soft hands. Gaston raised her chin and his face was only centimeters away from her. Her sobs went down to just sniffles as she realized how weak she had been around him.

"You must think I am just a mess."

"Jeanne," one of Gaston's hands went behind her neck and started pulling her lips closer to his. She wanted this, she did. She wanted to feel what it was like to kiss someone with full lips, someone who has a body that was warm. She imagined, in those few lingering seconds what it would have been like to sleep with him, to give herself to him. Then, she stopped everything.

"Please," Jeanne murmured, "I...I can't."

Gaston looked at her, confused. Then he straightened up and got up leaving Jeanne on the grass and in the rain. "Forgive me Madame for taking up so much of your time."

As he turned to walk away, Jeanne called for him with her arm stretched out as that would stop him.

"Gaston, no, please. You don't understand!"

He turned, gave her the nastiest and coldest look. "Come and see me when you are ready to give into your feelings, like I have given in to mine."

Gaston turned and walked away, leaving Jeanne in the rain like a lost dog, no kindness left in his heart.

Jeanne looked down at her muddy knees and she dropped her full body onto the grass wishing she could give in to her feelings, wishing she could love Gaston and be with him.

"Why! Why does he care! Why do I love him? Erik…this is your entire fault…"

She laid in the grass until Meg found her and brought her back inside…

* * *

**Chapter 10 was delightful wasn't it? Please comment and fave! It know it's been a while but I was so busy with my new job I almost died(not really), but now since I am settled in I can actually not stress out every 10 minutes and write a wonderful story for you guys! Anyways, yes please review I LOOOOVE REVIEWS! They let me know that you guys like my stuff. Thanks guys and gals and I will update really soon!**


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